


If I Was Born As a Blackthorn Tree (I'd Wanna Be Felled By You)

by DawnDust



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst with a Happy Ending, As in Rachel is dead, Assassin Patrick Brewer, Attempt at Humor, Conspiracy, Enemies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Slow Burn, The Roses Haven't Lost Their Money, everyone else lives, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnDust/pseuds/DawnDust
Summary: Patrick has been sent to assassinate business magnate Johnny Rose, owner of Rose Video. Unfortunately, he has some trouble following through with it. Mainly because Johnny’s son, David Rose, is really fucking cute.
Relationships: David Rose & Johnny Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 18
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got this idea last night because I watched The Spy Next Door, which I thought was hilarious. Dark themes (at least, for this fandom), so be careful. No one we care about is going to die, but there is going to be a decent amount of angst. Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Will probably update at least weekly.
> 
> Title from Hozier's NFWB, because I thought it was fitting.
> 
> Thank you to [Randa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pine67/profile) for her awesome betaing!

Patrick hadn’t meant to go into this line of work. It wasn’t like he woke up one day and thought about how much fun it would be to murder people. He honestly just fell into it. The dead fiancé, subsequent lawsuits, and acquittal of the corporate assholes who were responsible for Rachel’s death weren’t exactly part of his life plan. But taking matters into his own hands and getting justice for Rachel and other innocent people ended up being a _lot_ more satisfying and fun than his old desk job anyway, so it wasn’t like he regretted it.

He did, however, feel just a tiny bit bad about this _particular_ assignment. He had fond memories of working at Rose Video, and had always thought of Johnny Rose as a good, decent man who’d worked his way up to the top. But clearly, he’d been wrong. Rose was just like every other greedy billionaire who didn’t care who he hurt as long as he could make some money off of them.

Keeping that in mind, Patrick took a deep breath, plastered a smile on his face, and walked into Johnny Rose’s office. Rose had no reason to suspect him of anything untoward, but the first contact was always a little nerve-racking.

To his surprise, Rose wasn’t there. Sitting at what was presumably his desk was an olive-skinned man with a shock of dark hair, and an impressive set of eyebrows framing the most beautiful brown eyes Patrick had ever seen in his entire life. His stomach _dropped_. It took all of Patrick’s training to keep his jaw in place. He was _gorgeous_ , and _perfect_ , scrunching those cute eyebrows in Patrick’s direction. How could eyebrows be cute? Patrick hadn’t known that was a thing.

“Um, hello? _Hello_?” Patrick was snapped back into reality at that sharp voice and someone snapping at him. “Do I have something on my face or something??” Fuck. What the hell was Patrick doing ogling who he now recognized as David Rose, the son of the man Patrick was supposed to be gathering intel on?

“No, I’m so sorry, sir.” Patrick cringed internally. Sir? Really? Whatever, he’d already almost blown his cover, so he could deal with brown-nosing the billionaire’s bratty son for a couple minutes to make up for it. “My name’s Patrick Baker. Am I in the wrong office? I was supposed to be meeting with Johnny Rose about that accounting job.”

David pursed his lips together and stared intently, almost as if he was trying to stare into Patrick’s soul. He did his best not to shift uncomfortably. What was it about this man that got him so incredibly off-kilter?

“Hi, David Rose. Yeah, my dad’s busy. He’s making me interview people, because I’m not being ‘responsible’ with my money running the art gallery.” He waved towards the chair facing him and Patrick reluctantly took a seat. David sniffed haughtily. “It’s not _my_ fault that people aren’t as appreciative of the arts as they should be!” David’s hands had gotten so animated as he spoke that Patrick was worried about the safety of the many expensive-looking paperweights on the desk. He was _entranced_ and _smitten_ and what the _fuck_ was wrong with him??

“Anyways, you get me, right?” David asked, looking up at Patrick hopefully. “You wouldn’t have applied to this position if you didn’t have an interest in the arts. Although, why someone who liked art would _choose_ to be an accountant is beyond me.” David paused and then his eyes widened. “Not that I’m judging you! You can do whatever you want with your life, there is zero judgement here. Well, there is _some_ judgement because you willingly wore what looks like a fucking dollar store suit to an interview- and you’re laughing at me.” He cut off, looking at Patrick with what looked like a flash of hurt in his eyes, but it disappeared too quickly for him to be sure. David scowled and folded his arms together. “Well, that’s a great way to make sure you don’t get the job.”

Patrick stopped laughing, but couldn’t quite wipe the smile off his face. This man was absolutely ridiculous. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, I was more laughing at your judgement of my clothes. These are from Dillard’s, actually so…” David’s _face_ , God, Patrick had, admittingly, been trying to rile him up a bit, but he hadn’t expected the expression of sheer disgust.

“You- you realize that’s not much better, right?” Patrick kept a puzzled look on his face. David threw his hands up in the air. “Oh my god! I can’t hire someone who thinks clothes from Dillard’s are an appropriate fashion choice!” That does wipe the smile off of Patrick’s face. He has to get this job. Even though it wasn’t the job he’d signed up for in the first place. Where the fuck was Johnny Rose?

“Well David, you could always buy me new clothes and treat them as a tax write-off for your gallery,” Patrick replied distractedly, scanning the hallways through the glass windows.

“What the fuck is a write-off?” David asked, and Patrick latched onto that.

“It’s a legitimate expense that can be deducted from your taxable income. That’s the sort of stuff that I could help you with.” David nodded intently, so Patrick couldn’t help adding, “And in return, you could buy me some better suits.”

“I thought that in return, I’d be paying you?” David asked, looking truly confused.

Patrick decided to cut him some slack. “I was joking, David. Although, I’m going to be honest, I wasn’t here to interview for a job at your gallery. I was here to interview for the branch thirteen accountant position?”

David pursed his lips. He looked a little sheepish. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry, that position got taken a few days ago. My dad was about to cancel your interview, but then I asked him if I could maybe interview you instead for the gallery?” He scrunched up his face, and Patrick was _not_ going to think that was adorable, because he was too busy being irritated at David’s presumptuousness.

“So, all that talk about having an interest in the arts,” Patrick began slowly, noting with some satisfaction that David was squirming in his chair, “That was just you pretending like I already knew I was applying to your gallery, even though you were aware I had no idea what was going on?”

“Well-”

Patrick cut him off, “And you just assumed that I wouldn’t say anything and would just take the gallery position? Out of what? Desperation?”

David put his head in his hands. “Okay, look, I’m sorry! I was just in my dad’s office right after he hired someone for the accountant position, and then he started yelling at me about how the gallery was in shambles because I fired Dorthea a couple weeks ago for wearing plaid on plaid and also for being a major bitch, and I just hadn’t had the time to look for a new money person for my gallery, and he was getting very loud and yell-y, and I saw your name on his computer and then I said I’d interview you instead, so he’d get off my ass.”

Patrick was very impressed by how David had managed to say all that without taking a single breath. That was a pretty useful skill for- no, Patrick was not going to go there. He’d literally just met this man and was going to kill his father, so it’s not like they’d have time for that.

Patrick felt a twinge of guilt, but he shoved it down under his irritation. David Rose was just like his father, seeing the people around him like tools that he could use and throw away when he got bored of them. Well, Patrick could use him right back. The gallery position could probably still get him close enough to get rid of Johnny Rose. It would be more difficult, but was better than nothing. His dad would have to come in to see his son, _eventually._ Plus, Patrick didn’t think he was done with David Rose quite yet.

“Okay, David.”

“Okay, what?” David asked, peeking out from behind his hands.

“Okay, I’ll do you a favor and accept the job.” Patrick replied, smiling slightly.

“Oh, you’re doing _me_ a favor?” David spluttered. “I haven’t even offered you the job yet! The interview’s barely begun!”

“Well, considering that you clearly don’t have many options, I think that the job is as good as mine.” Patrick stared into his annoyingly soulful eyes. Ugh, it was very rude of David to look at him like that, with his eyes wide open and moist, pink lips slightly parted, when Patrick was wearing what was an already tight suit. “Am I right, David?” Patrick tried to keep his expression confident, hoping he hadn’t miscalculated.

David closed his mouth and stared back at Patrick for a second. He finally said, “You’re either very impatient or _extremely_ sure of yourself.”

Patrick shrugged. “Can’t it be both?”

David ground his teeth together and then stood up. Patrick got up as well, trying not to think about the height difference between them that put him at a slight disadvantage. He hadn’t realized David was this tall. Hm.

“You start Monday,” David replied curtly and Patrick did his best to hide his relief. “I have your phone number from the application form, so I’ll send you the address, and all other pertinent information.” Patrick gave him a sharp nod. “If you fuck up, you’re _out_. Don’t think that just because you got this job easily, it means that you can do whatever you want. My gallery is important to me, and I’m not going to have anyone messing it up.”

“Understood. And don’t worry, David, I’m a _much_ better accountant than I am a fashionista. Your gallery is in good hands.” Patrick gave him a genuine smile, and saw some of the tension leave David’s shoulders.

“The gallery will open at 11 AM, sharp, but I’ll expect you there by 8. My assistant Chelsea will give you access to our financials and tell you whatever else you need to know. If you still have questions, I’ll be there by 10:30, probably. I’m not exactly a morning person, so don’t text me before 10.”

“Oh, I could tell that by your everything,” Patrick teased, gesturing in David’s direction.

“Okay! If you’re done with bullying your new boss, you can leave.” David sat back down, and opened up his computer.

“It was nice to meet you, David.” Patrick said sincerely. He was a little confused by the shock and wonder in David’s expression, but chalked it up to some rich-people rule that he probably broke. Maybe they weren’t allowed to be nice to each other. David nodded back at him. Patrick walked out, hands in his pocket, heart thumping in his throat. He may not have made first contact with Johnny Rose, but he still made progress today. And, hey, he landed a new gig. Granted, it probably wouldn’t last too long, but it would still be nice to have something to pay the bills while he was waiting for his payment for the assassination.

Lost in his thoughts, Patrick didn’t notice the person in front of him until they ran into each other.

“Oh, I’m sorry-” Patrick began, but then his mouth went dry as he realized who it was. “M-Mr. Rose, I’m _so_ sorry, I didn’t see you there.” What kind of an assassin...

Johnny Rose was busy dusting himself off. “Watch where you’re going, son. You could really hurt someone if you’re not paying attention.” Yikes. Patrick tried not to wince. “Say, were you just coming from my office? That’s the only one down this corridor.”

“Yes, sir. My name’s Patrick Baker. I was interviewing for the gallery position with your son.” Patrick held out a hand to shake, and when he took it, he quickly pressed a white tracking button on Johnny’s sleeve. He might as well take opportunities wherever he found them.

Johnny’s stern face brightened. “With David? Did you get it?”

Patrick laughed uneasily and replied, “You’re looking at the newest accountant of the David Rose Gallery!”

“Well, good for you, son!” Johnny patted him on the back, a little too enthusiastically. “Good for you!” His face fell a bit, again. Was the entire Rose family this expressive? Did they even have to talk to each other or could they just tell what each of them were saying solely from their faces?

“I just hope that you’ll be a bit patient with David. I know he can be very demanding, and doesn’t really understand how money works very well, but the gallery means a lot to him. The last two accountants, Dorthea and Timmy, both quit after they realized how much work he- the gallery was, so I hope you’ll be up for the challenge.” Patrick was quiet for a moment, absorbing all that information.

“I’ll do my best, Mr. Rose. All I can say is that I’ve never been a quitter.” Johnny smiled at him again.

“Well, good! And try to be nice to David. I know it’s hard sometimes, but underneath all that Valentino, he has a fragile heart. He really does mean well.” Patrick nodded, not knowing how to reply to that, and Johnny walked off, presumably to go bother his son.

Patrick stood in the corridor, thinking. David had said that he fired Dorthea. But Patrick wasn’t surprised that he’d lied about her quitting to her replacement. However, he was a little surprised at how much Johnny Rose had told a virtual stranger. His heart seemed to be in the right place, but it would be so easy to use the information he gave him as ammunition against David. Not that Patrick would, but still. It must have been hard growing up with a well-meaning, but overbearing dad like that.

Patrick shook his head and started walking in the direction of the exit. He didn’t have time to psychoanalyze the Roses. He had to come up with a plan. And it was looking more and more like David Rose would be an important part of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's the beginning! They're all trying their bests, but their bests aren't very good. Except Patrick. He's a bit more competent. 
> 
> I was considering switching POVs, but I'm debating between that and keeping it Patrick POV (for most of the time). Please let me know if you have a preference! I would also welcome any feedback <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick has his first day at the gallery. He makes a new friend and a new enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Referenced past child endangerment and sexual harassment. There are upsetting themes, so please be careful. 
> 
> I tried VERY hard to make David act like his pre-Schitts Creek asshole self, but Patrick just turns it around and starts making fun of him. 
> 
> Thank you to [Randa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pine67/profile) for betaing again and for being very supportive!

“How many more times do you want me to repeat myself? The position was _filled_. I’m lucky that I got the job I did.” Patrick pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He hated dealing directly with clients. The company he worked for was supposed to have some type of middle-management, but they downsized recently (something about the economy), leaving Patrick to have to explain himself to idiots who didn’t know shit about his profession.

Eli was yelling at him and threatening to ‘take care of the problem himself.’ That visual would have been hilarious to Patrick if he didn’t have a headache. This man _really_ loved the sound of his own voice. He was a slimy little bastard, only in this for the money he’d be able to steal from the Roses once Johnny was gone. Patrick would normally never work with someone who was this self-serving, but the evidence he had on Johnny was rock solid. So now, here he was, stuck being the target of this irritating old bag’s temper tantrum.

Patrick tuned back in to hear the last of his rant, “...and since you have access to him, we might as well get rid of David, too.”

“I’m sorry?” Patrick asked, convinced he’d misheard.

“David Rose, the oldest son and gallery owner? You could probably kill him too. It’d make my job a heck of a lot easier.” Eli snorted. “You know what I just remembered? He’s deathly allergic to dates. I remember going to Johnny’s house one day, and the boy couldn’t have been more than three? Four? I walked in right when his face was turning blue. I think David had gotten into one of Moira’s gift baskets. He got real lucky, cause I keep an epi-pen on me. Just in case someone tries something.”

“Were his parents not home?” Patrick asked, feeling sick. Eli chuckled.

“Moira was conked out on sleeping pills in the other wing. I tried to wake her up to take him to the hospital, but she was out like a light. Or at least, she wouldn’t unlock her door. Johnny ended up coming home a couple minutes later, so he probably ended up taking him. I wouldn’t know, I left after I got the papers I needed.”

Patrick didn’t say anything, trying to figure out what kind of parents would just abandon their toddler like that. What the fuck was wrong with them?

“My point is that I doubt he remembers it, and his parents probably never told him about it. At least it was never brought up to me again. So you could probably slip him a couple in a cookie or cake and no one would know any better. They’d just think it was a freak accident.”

A rush of something _angry_ flowed through Patrick, for reasons he didn’t care to examine. “I’m not going to kill an innocent man for no reason,” Patrick gritted out. He was irritated because Eli was treating him like a little GI soldier figurine he could point at people to kill them with. “So don’t say anything like that to me, ever again.”

“Sheesh, man,” Eli laughed, and Patrick wanted to reach through the phone and throttle him. “It was just a suggestion. And it’s not like David’s ‘innocent.’ I’d be surprised if Johnny hadn’t told him everything about the operation already, to make sure that he could carry on his legacy.”

“David Rose definitely looks like the kind of man at the center of a huge drug ring,” Patrick replied sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to look into that. Is there anything else you want, Eli?” He asked, letting a bit of steel into his voice.

Eli, finally seeming to realize that he was on Patrick’s last nerve, stammered his goodbyes. Patrick hung up and slumped into the sofa, completely drained by that conversation. Why was he letting one little decades-old sob story of a billionaire’s son get to him? For every sad story, David probably had dozens of others involving riches and privileges most people couldn’t even dream of. And yet, the thought of anything happening to David made him feel… absolutely nothing. Because Patrick was here to do a job; he didn’t give a single fuck about what happened to David Rose. All he cared about was taking Johnny out and getting vengeance for all the people that were dead because of him.

Patrick shook off his thoughts and pulled out his laptop to continue doing his research on the Rose gallery. He had already scoped out all the entry points, but he needed to brush up on their financials. He may not be employed for very long, but he’d do a damn good job while he is. And from the looks of these articles, David needed the help. He needed a _lot_ of help.

* * *

Patrick’s first day was going great. He hadn’t seen David again, but he’d met Chelsea who worked as David’s personal assistant and was getting her MFA. She was funny and charming, which made Patrick take an instant liking to her. She’d shown him his office and gotten Patrick settled in, and then shortly after, asked him if he wanted to take his lunch break with her. They’d just finished eating, and were finishing off their coffees, when Patrick heard a shrill distinctive voice from behind him.

“So, what exactly am I paying you for?”

He turned around and was unsurprised to see David standing before him, hands on his hips, mouth twisted in a scowl. “Because from what I recall, it wasn’t for standing around, laughing and chatting with my other employees.”

Patrick snuck a glance at Chelsea, and saw that she looked more amused than annoyed, so he felt safe enough to reply, “Well David, currently you are paying me for my mandatory lunch break, as stipulated in my contract. Am I going to have to report you for workplace intimidation for trying to cut my break short?”

David blanched. “What? No! I was just, you- I walked in and you were just standing there and talking with Chelsea, so what was I supposed to think?”

Patrick had to suppress the urge to start laughing at the look on David’s face. He really wouldn’t appreciate that. “Don’t worry, I was just kidding. I won’t report you. It’ll be our little secret.”

“Don’t say that, that just makes it sound worse!” Chelsea snorted into her coffee cup, causing David to turn the full force of his glare on her. “And you! You’re supposed to be on my side, so I don’t know what you’re doing conspiring with the new hire. _This_ is an unbalanced social dynamic,” David said, motioning at them.

Patrick mouthed ‘conspiring’ and ‘unbalanced social dynamic’ at Chelsea, making David turn on him.

“Stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what?”

“Just… stop doing that _thing_ with your face and your mouth! It’s very distracting. And annoying!” David gestured at Patrick’s face.

“Well that was very specific,” Patrick said, meeting Chelsea’s eyes, his own dancing in amusement.

“Your face _and_ your mouth, Patrick,” Chelsea replied, suppressing her own smile.

“See? There you go again!” David threw his hands up in the air. “Whatever, I have better things to do than be judged by someone wearing a cheap button-down to his first day of a new job,” he stomped off, muttering to himself.

“Was that too much? Should I start packing my bags?”

“Nah, he needed his ego kicked down a couple of notches,” Chelsea replied. She took a sip of her coffee and, for the first time since he’d met her, gave Patrick a serious look. “He’s honestly not that bad to work for. He’s not gonna fire you unless you harass the other employees or make an unfixable fuck-up.” Chelsea slammed back the rest of her coffee and dumped it into the recyclable box next to the water cooler.

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to changing out the paintings. I’ll see you later, Patrick!” She flashed him a peace sign and walked out. Patrick waved goodbye, maybe a little too eagerly. It was silly, but Patrick was kind of excited to be in the kind of office that had a water cooler and other employees to make fun of the boss with. Assassins, as a rule, tended to be loners. But Patrick was very much a people person. And yet, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d interacted with someone outside of the job for the past few years. His assignments were usually not as well protected or high profile, so the last time he had to play the long game was years ago.

Patrick had gotten familiar with the Gallery’s financials earlier today, but he still had quite a mess of paperwork to sort through. Funnily enough, he was looking forward to it. He’d disliked his old desk job because he was just a corporate pencil pusher. However, he’d gotten his accounting degree and business MBA because he loved helping small businesses grow, so he was excited about this. The accounting nerd in him danced around in glee.

Patrick had gotten completely absorbed into his work before he was interrupted by hushed, angry voices gradually getting louder. He continued scribbling away, pretending like he was working, as they came closer.

“-not allowed to be here. Get the fuck out.”

A sigh. “David, David, _David_. You’ve always been so sensitive and flighty. But you can’t let that get in the way of your gallery’s future. We both know it’s not doing well, and-”

“That’s not true.”

“-my proposed exhibit is exactly what you need! My valorous work perfectly portrays the fragility of-”

“-Your last _exhibit_ is the reason half my staff left.”

“David, are you really blaming me for your mistakes? It’s not my fault that your staff didn’t have the courage to handle your truest self. It’s your own fault for not baring your soul to them earlier.”

“ _Baring my soul_ , Sebastien, you’re the one who decided to exhibit those obscene shots of me! You’re really fucking lucky Chelsea told me before we opened for your ‘surprise exhibit’ or my family would have done a lot more than get a restraining order- don’t _fucking_ touch me, Sebastien!”

Patrick threw down his pen and started walking towards the door. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he knew that it wasn’t okay to just be sitting here.

“Jesus, fine, I was just trying to comfort you, David. You’re being so unreasonable. You consented to those pictures-”

“-You said they were for _us_ and let’s be honest, you wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyway-”

“-I was trying to portray you the way you were meant to be portrayed to the world and I don’t see what’s so-”

Patrick pushed the door open and the conversation came to an abrupt stop. David was leaning against the wall of the hallway, huddled into himself, looking angry and embarrassed. A tall, shaggy looking man was standing in front of him, hands held up in placation. He had one of the most punchable faces Patrick had seen in a while.

“Hi,” Patrick said, addressing the guy dressed in rags who he assumed was Sebastien. “You’re being very loud right outside my office, making it difficult for me to get any work done.” He gave him a tight-lipped smile, and then turned to David. “Is there a problem here that you need taken care of?”

Before David could reply, Sebastien stepped forward. “Oh, hello. You’re absolutely gorgeous. How would you feel about a nude, beachside photoshoot? I think the blue of the water would really bring out the honey-brown in your eyes.” He reached for Patrick’s face, but missed as Patrick neatly sidestepped him.

“Do you proposition everyone you meet?” He asked, no longer smiling. “Because if so, you may have more success wearing actual clothes instead of something that looks like a dog’s chew toy.”

Sebastien glared at him. “This is Balenciaga.” He looked at David condescendingly. “Did you really hire someone who can’t even recognize luxury fashion? No wonder the gallery is failing.”

David crossed his arms and tilted his head, looking intently at Sebastien’s shirt. “No, he’s right, it really does look like you gave it to a pet to gnaw and step on and then put it back on without even washing it. You’ve always had awful taste.” Sebastien scoffed and opened his mouth to retort, but David ignored him and continued, “And please don’t worry about the gallery, Sebastien. It’s going to be doing far better, now that you’re no longer a part of it.” He stood up straighter and looked at him with steel in eyes. “You’re not welcome here. Get the fuck out.”

Sebastien scoffed again and threw his hands up in the air. “Here I am, trying to help you, and you’re turning me away. Don’t come crying back to me when you lose everything because of your own stupidity.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When Sebastien made no move to leave, Patrick stepped forward. “Would you like me to show you the way out?” He asked sweetly, offering him an arm, fully prepared to drag him out of the gallery. Sebastien gave him an expression of disgust and finally walked away.

When Patrick turned to David, he saw that he was scowling at him.

“What are you playing at?”

“What?” Patrick asked, wrinkling his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“What’s your angle, Patrick? No one does something without wanting something in return.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been a dick this entire time, and now you’re suddenly being nice, and I don’t understand why.”

“I don’t… David I’ve just been kidding around. I haven’t meant anything I said,” Patrick said, furrowing his eyebrows. Had David been taking his jokes to heart?

David didn’t seem to be listening. He took a step forward and stared at Patrick in what would probably have been a threatening manner if he had been anyone else. Patrick automatically shifted his hand to his pocket before forcing himself to move it away. David wasn’t going to attack him, and even if he did, Patrick wouldn’t need that to take him down.

“Are you going to go to the press?”

Patrick was taken aback by the non-sequitur. “I’m sorry?”

“Are you going to tell the press what you heard Sebastein say?” David repeated slowly. Patrick cataloged David’s face and realized that he wasn’t actually angry. He was scared, scared of what Patrick might have heard and of what he might do. Patrick didn’t like seeing that expression on his face.

“I don’t think the press would care all that much about how he wanted to do a nude photoshoot of me?” Patrick said, attempting to diffuse the tension, but it just made David flinch. A couple pieces fell into place.

Patrick knew he had to tread very carefully. “Honestly, David, I wasn’t listening to anything you two were talking about. I was mostly just annoyed because I was trying to familiarize myself with your financials, and he was being very loud,” Patrick said, looking David in the eye. “I’d like to get back to that now?”

David relaxed his stance. “Right, okay. Go do your work.” He started to walk away, but then stopped and turned back to look at Patrick. “Thank you. Really, I appreciated that. I don’t think anyone’s ever backed me up like that before, not without wanting something out of it.”

Patrick, uncomfortable with this level of sincerity and the sudden roiling in his gut, replied, “Anytime!” and then ducked back into his office. He waited a couple of minutes, making sure David’s footsteps had faded away, before walking back out and closing the door behind him. Patrick had familiarized himself with the Gallery's entry points last night, and then again this morning. From the sounds of it, Chelsea was not a fan of Sebastien, and wouldn’t have let him in through the front. The only other place he could have gotten in through that didn’t require breaking a window was the back entrance.

Sure enough, when Patrick arrived at said entrance, the door was open. He stepped outside, but didn’t see any sign of Sebastien. It was a testament to how bad David’s security was that nobody had noticed him breaking in or leaving. Patrick would tell him to get better security if he wasn’t also benefiting from David’s carelessness. On the day of the interview, Patrick had inadvertently cloned David’s keycard, with an RFID reader he’d forgotten he had on him. He’d made a copy of the card, so this was a good opportunity to make sure it worked, without drawing too much suspicion to himself. If it somehow failed, he could just go back to the front and sheepishly tell Chelsea he’d locked himself out.

Patrick closed the door behind himself, and jiggled the handle to make sure it was locked. It only took a second to open back up again with his twin card. Why someone would spend thousands of dollars on creating a security system and then run it on recycled, old technology that any child with an Arduino could disable was beyond him. And they didn’t even have _cameras_ in the back. It was ridiculous.

With that hurdle passed, Patrick headed back to his office. He’d done enough for today. David already seemed to be suspicious of his intentions, so he didn’t want to get caught sneaking around. Tomorrow, he would check the visitor’s log to look at what days Johnny showed up. Figuring out his schedule and having unfettered access to the gallery with the cloned card should be enough for Patrick to create a preliminary action plan to take him out for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought! I love getting feedback <3


End file.
